Kim Possible: Lost Soul
by Fabius Maximus
Summary: AU.  Kim has been dead for 12 years...so who is this? Chapter XI up!
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

* * *

_The room was silent. When Mitchell had gone to sleep, he'd done so in the comforting knowledge that his security was fool proof. _

_He'd died content, at least, the blade that had cleanly severed his head from his body giving him no chance to awaken. The blood soaked coverlets revealed no sign of a struggle, or another person—save for the fact that someone had cut his _head _off, that was._

"_Agent Go?"_ _The detective said to her, "I understand that this is an unusual case…but why the FBI involvement?"_

"_Need to know." Sheila said, quietly. The detective looked unhappy, but backed off. Not that they had much to tell, but the last thing she wanted was a media circus over this. Seven people in the last year, killed. A sword. No prints, hair, or any DNA evidence. Little sign of struggle except in one place—and that had been the worst, where the target _and _his two bodyguards had been carved up, messily. _

"_They're looking for prints." Agent Dulles said. Sheila shook her head. _

"_They won't find any."_

"_You certain? Everyone messes up." _

"_Sometimes, but not this time. This is a _pro_." Sheila said. "Oh, we'll keep looking, and maybe we'll get lucky, but no. Not in this room, at least. " _

"_Some crazy? Like the ones you and-" Sheila's glare quelled him. "Sorry." She sighed. _

"_Don't be—I shouldn't bite your head off for _my _history_ _with my brothers. But no…not crazy. We know that these were all criminal types—all organized crime. It's not a vigilante, I'd bet my house on it, because most vigilantes feel the need to make a statement. It's not a lone vendetta, because the cases aren't related, save for the criminal link.."_

"_A hit man?"_

"_Yeah, that'd be my bet, but normally there is buzz about that." Sheila paused, "but nobody, none of our sources knows anything." She sighed, "And it's getting very, very sticky—sooner or later this is going to come out to the media and make us look horrible." _

"_Agent Go?" That came from another Agent. "We have something."_

"_What?" Sheila asked. _

"_Well… you know that just beyond this house is a sorority?"_

"_They saw something?" _

"_No. One of their fan club members," The agent grinned, pointing to the apartment building, it's windows overlooking both the mafia chieftan's house and the sorority pool, "did." _

"_Oohhh…." Sheila said. _

"_We're debriefing him, and assuring him that his good citizenship will protect him from being arrested for videotaping naked sunbathing girls."_

"_You are?"_

"_Nobody said anything about not telling _them_."_

"_Nasty—let's see." Sheila said, pointing to the recordable DVD disk in the agent's hand. _

_When they got to the van, the agent plugged the disk in. There was a period of fast forwarding, beyond the bathing, busty, beauties, as they got to the end of the day._

"_Mitchell was coming back early—he had to be out four AM tomorrow to meet his…uncle."_

"_Uncle?"_

"_Giotti." _

"_In trouble?"_

"_No—we think they were talking about expanding their prostitution operations."_

"_Go on…" _

"_So, there was only a very small window of time, and look at this…" _

_The camera view ducked for a moment, as a darker shadow leaped onto the ledge, and vanished into the house via a window. At maximum resolution, the figure was lithe, and female, moving with surety on the slippery tiles. _

"_She was fast…" Sheila said._

"_Yep—we have people going over it now, but whoever was there knew _exactly _how to blow through the security…" He paused, "But we found one thing, when we examined that shelf." _

"_Oh?"_

"_A ton of bird crap, some feathers…and a single human hair. We're analyzing it now." Sheila felt the smile coming on, and fought it. For all they knew that could be a blown hair, or the hair from a roof worker or…_

_But she had a feeling this case was finally getting a break. This killer didn't mess up…but against bad luck…or good luck for them, there was no defense.

* * *

_

_The elegant house was done in a way that spoke to riches—old riches, with nothing overly gaudy or standing out, rather combining to form a beautiful whole. The older Asian man walking down the hall, two large men in dark suits following him and a single young woman in an expensive dress walking by him paused, as a figure dressed in a dark full body suit of flexible armor, almost a second skin, paused before him. _

"_Is the disharmony afflicting our house ended?" he asked. The figure's green eyes looked out from the gap in her mask and a voice, slightly muffled came._

"_Yes." She said. _

"_Unmask."_

"_Yes sir." And moments later, the girl was standing, revealed to be the same age as the girl standing by him. Vibrant red hair, held back in a bun gave way to a cascade of scarlet as Kim undid it and shook it out. _

"_You and Yori have done wonderful work for us, Kim Possible."_

"_Thank you, Tono-Sama." Kim said, bowing deeply, as did Yori. The two looked at each other and smiled. _

"_Now, go. Make yourself presentable, as we have visitors coming soon, and I would not want to leave them without proper attendants and guards." _

"_Yes sir." She said, and bowing again, left the room, never turning her back on him._

"_Go with her, Yori, and Debrief her."_

"_Hai." _

_Tono smiled as the girl left the room. His greatest weapons, sheathed in such pleasing forms. One day he would have to consider marrying them off to loyal members of the Yakuza… Once they were tied by bonds of family, their loyalty would be assured…

* * *

_

_End prologue._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter I. Names and Secrets.

* * *

"You know, it's taken me longer to do my fingernails," Shiela said in annoyance.

"Some buildings are _built_ in a shorter amount of time than it takes to do your fingernails." Tom Jones said. The agent had been teamed up with Sheila for nearly half a year now, and showed no signs of burning out like so many others. Sheila was a senior agent at thirty, but she would never move beyond.

Her eyes narrowed at the thought. Give up the field for a desk. Please. If she'd wanted to do _that_ she could have stuck with Hego for a never ending series of PR stunts and ultimately meaningless battles against "evil." The FBI let her deal with _real_ evil.

Still, sometimes she mourned the end of the days when frustration could be solved by going out and _hitting_ someone.

"OK, let's see if the nerd patrol has come up with an answer yet." She said.

Walking through the labryanth of the Federal Building, Jones marveled at Sheila's staying power. Granted she had "comet energy," but even so, she was never anywhere else. Go out, party a bit (and some of her parties had achieved legendary status), come back, work 20 hours, go sleep for four, and repeat the process. The occasional vacation she took evidently consisted of her finding some deserted beach and reading romance novels. The other rumors remained just that, rumors, but nobody was about to begrudge her any fun on her vacations. He remembered the story's about the Kendl kidnapping, where Sheila literally hadn't slept for nearly two weeks until the kid was recovered and her kidnappers were put in jail. She'd been the on the entry team and had called in the good news to her parents, before collapsing into a nearly comatose state that had lasted for three days, after which she'd, according to witnesses, eaten the best part of an entire cow's worth of steak.

And, he had to admit in an unabashedly male chauvinist pig moment, she was pretty damned easy on the eyes.

They finally reached the lab they were looking for, and Sheila unlocked and entered the door. Not many had the key, as the occupant was…very shy. He was also just over 11, which made for some odd work habits.

"Hi guys." Wade Load said.

"Hey Wade, how's working off your debt to society coming?" Tom asked.

"Boring, mostly." Sheila frowned.

"Boring can be good," Sheila said, in a reprise of an often said statement. "And be glad _we_ were the ones who took the case. If that had been an NSA computer you hacked and not a civilian one, we might not be having this conversation." Wade frowned, but let it pass.

_Oh yes, Kid, be glad._ Sheila thought. Kids, no damned clue to their own mortality, or how easily the world could change the rules on them. Technically, Wade was working off his debt to society by spending time in FBI custody, working as an Intern. Unofficially, the Bureau was giving him everything he wanted, within reason, and there were several people in charge of steering legitimate consulting work his way. If idle hands made for the devil's work, keep his hands from being idle.

Like right now.

"So, what did you find?"

"I got a DNA print… but…" Wade paused, and looked uncharacteristically worried, "It's probably a misidentification. I'm running it again." The two blinked, Wade almost _never_ admitted to a misidentification.

"Why?"

"I got a match, but it was in the cold cases, and I can't."

"What case?"

"A little girl—missing, presumed dead. Kim Possible." Sheila blinked at that, then her eyes narrowed.

"You got a DNA read off of that?"

"Well, you know that they're banking any DNA reads off the cold cases?" Wade asked. The two agents nodded. More than a few murderers who had thought they were safely beyond the reach of the law had been caught by old blood stains. The FBI had formalized a program to insure that any DNA based evidence was properly catalogued and banked.

"Her mom was a doctor—she's also presumed dead…suicide."

"Let me see the case." Sheila said. Wade handed to her as the computer continued to ruminate over the identification.

Hmmmm…. She said to herself, reading the synopsis.

_Small town doctor decides to run a business on the side dispensing drugs…not too unusual, although I-no, people throw their lives away for the most stupid reasons, maybe she wanted a new car. _

_Caught… claimed innocence claimed she was framed, even claimed she'd received menacing calls…one day, just before the indictment comes down she takes her little 5 year old, and leaves. Car found later, smashed into a wall burned out with two bodies in it, same weight and size… wonderful. Mom can't face life so she takes her kid with her. Surviving family—husband, and two twin boys—newborns at the time. They'd be about twelve now. _

_DNA was taken from…hold on. _

"Where did this DNA come from again?"

"Hospital samples."

"Not the car or the bodies?"

"The bodies were _charbroiled_, Sheila. They couldn't get a read off of them, and the car wasn't much better." Sheila looked at the included pictures. The car, with the two corpses, one large, one smaller, still sitting up in the car. Her stomach twisted slightly at the memory. Sheila had been places where the stench of burning meat filled the air. It wasn't a pleasant memory.

"Could you get a read now?"

"Um, maybe the technology is better now, but Shego, why?"

"Because…" She paused, as the computer gave a ping and spit out a paper.

"Let me guess, confirmed that it's the same?"

"Ummm…yeah." She nodded. "Well, Math Boy, here's the question. We have a dead girl, but we also have a murderer who is about the same size and height that a seventeen year old could be. We have a single strand of hair, with the tiny, tiny pieces of flesh that adhere to the base of the follicle, dropped on ledge, that says that person, is, In fact our dead girl." She gave a humorless smile. "Now, at the time, you say the DNA in the car was irrecoverable, that the corpses were burned. How did they ID them, anyway?"

"Um…dental records…but…" Now Sheila's smile was like a sharks …

"But it really wasn't too much of an in depth look, because these were local cops and I bet they wanted to spare the father any further trauma, once he was cleared. Mom killed herself, admission of guilt, end of story, selfish bitch takes kid with her, film at eleven."

"So…what now?"

"Why Wade…" Shego purred. "We're about to try and get permission to dig up a few graves…."

To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

Conversations and Accusations

* * *

"Why am I coming?" Wade asked. It wasn't, not quite, a whine. Wade _really_ didn't like being away from his computers and room.

"Because we're testing out that nice new satellite enabled laptop that you convinced the Bureau to buy you at such expense to the taxpayers." Sheila said, "And because possession is nine-tenths of the law, and I don't want to find out, when I call for help, someone else has poached you for _their_ very important project." They'd flown in from LA to Middleton Colorado, and picked up a rented car.

It was snowing, Sheila noticed, and shivered.

_Snow, Gah. LA was having a cold snap right now, I mean, geez, it was probably a freezing 75 at noon._

"So what's the plan?" Tom asked. "Talk to the family?"

"Oh riiiigggghhhht." Sheila said. "Hello Dr. Possible, where here to dig up your wife and kid. See, your baby girl may not be dead, just a crazed killer…No. Until we're more certain, I don't want to run around screaming, THE GIRL LIVES! No, how about we stop at the hospital first."

"Hospital?"

"Yah. I want some background on this. People do weird things, but she got caught because she was a bad crook…and then was good enough to fake her death, _and_ come up with two bodies?"

"How do we know the mom's alive?" Wade asked from the back seat.

"Point Nerdmeister, we don't." Sheila said, "But that raises another question—who was _interested_ in them enough to save the daughter—or daughter and mom?"

When they pulled up to the hospital, the three got out.

"Stay in the lobby," Sheila said to Wade, "I don't want to get people distracted by explaining why you're working with the FBI." Wade nodded, and went to a seat. Sheila and Tom headed to the front desk.

"May I help you?" The nurse asked, and Sheila nodded, showing her FBI identification.

"Is there anyone who was working here about twelve years ago?" She asked.

"Um…some people…why?"

"I'm doing some follow up on a drug case that involved Dr.Cindy Possible during that time."

"Follow up….._oh,_ that Possible." She frowned, "I think that one of the doctors she was sharing shifts with is here…wait one moment." She consulted a schedule.

"Oh, he's between procedures—Dr. Michaelson. He should be in his office right now." The secretary called the office and after a brief conversation, turned to Sheila and tom.

"He can see you for about thirty minutes."

"Thanks." Sheila said and headed to the elevators.

"How do we play this?" Tom asked.

"Ask questions, and see if we like the answers."

The two walked up to the office of Dr. Michaelson, and entered it. Michaelson was a harried looking man in his late thirties or early forties, talking on a phone.

"Look, Denise… I know Marcella's upset about that, but I can't show up for the cheer competition. Dr. Tomkin's called in sick, and I have to take his caseload. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to her." With that, he looked up at the two, "Sorry Denise, I have to go now." Putting the phone down, he frowned at Shiela and Tom. "Can I help you, or are you hear to cap my day?"

"Hopefully the first. I'm Shiela Go, Federal Bureau of Investigation, this is Tom Jones."

"Also of the Bureau." Tom said, reaching across to shake the doctors hand after Shiela.

"Well, I don't think my parking tickets would lead to the involvement of the FBI." Michaelson said. Sheila could see his mind racing trying to figure out, _what the hell have I done?_ She smiled.

"Nothing about you, Doctor… we're doing some background on an old case, and you were mentioned as someone on the scene."

"Oh?"

"Dr. Cindy Possible." Sheila quietly said. The doctor's eyes became closed and hostile.

"I'm afraid I don't want to talk about that."

"I'm afraid we need to."

"Do you have a warrant? Because if you don't this conversation is at an end." Sheila looked at him, paused, thought, and then went with her impulse.

"Better than a warrant. We have information that leads us to believe that her child is alive. Kimberly Ann Possible, I believe her name was." The doctor looked for a moment like he didn't remember the name, and then turned pale.

"That's not even funny, Agent Go."

"I'm not intending to be funny. We really do have some information that she might be alive."

"_I_ was one of the first ones on scene, when the paramedics called. The car had already burned out. I saw their bodies."

"You saw _someone's _bodies." Sheila said. "Maybe not theirs." She shrugged, "Maybe we're wrong and they _are_ theirs. I want to know what happened, from someone who was there."

"I…" He paused, "I went to medical school with Cindy, you understand, so I may not be… objective."

"I understand. First question. Did she do it?"

"The…the evidence was there. Missing drugs, money deposits to her account, even her codes had been used to open it…the kicker was her finger prints on the key card that had last been logged opening the storage unit."

"Anything else, before that came out?" Sheila said, leaning forward. Michaelson paused.

"She was…distracted. Worried, about something."

"Money?" Tom asked, and Sheila flashed a quelling look at him.

_Don't lead the witness, Tom. Let it come out naturally._

"No. Her husband worked at the Space Center and they both were quite well paid." Michaelson laughed, softly. "In fact, James had some patents that brought in a little extra…no, they weren't hurting for money in the slightest. She had talked about the fact that she might take a year or so of reduced duty to care for her daughter and her twins, in fact and she never expressed any worries about money." He sighed, "But all of a sudden… about a month before she became…withdrawn. Angry at times, fearful at others. I put it down to post partum depression—and in any case, a five year old and two new born twins, well, those would be a handful for anyone!"

"And then?"

"Then she…" He paused, "She got out on bail, went home, and apparently, got into her car with Kim, and well…" Even after twelve years, Michaelson felt the need to grab a tissue and blow into it noisily.

_Maybe holding a little torch, Doctor?_

"And no note—not even one that wasn't given to the police."

"No. Nothing." He paused, "James was… utterly devastated by it, as you can imagine. For a time we feared he might- well, in any case his mother came to live with him and help raise the twins." He looked at Sheila. "You haven't said anything to him, have you?"

"No."

"Ah, a word… a word of advice. Talk to his mother first. James still works at the space center…but he's…not entirely rational about this incident. A few months after the suicide…er, if that's what it was, he was arrested."

"For what?"

"Assault on a police officer. He saw one of the involved officers and took out after him." Sheila raised her eyebrows. _That_ hadn't been in the case file.

"What happened?"

"The officer and district attorney—not the one who had prosecuted his wife, withdrew charges on the agreement that he would see a psychologist." The doctor shrugged, "As I understood it, both the officer and the DA saw no reason to put him through more suffering." Sheila nodded at that and checked off one of her mental rolodex's possibilities, that there had been a community vendetta. It certainly sounded like they'd be more likely to give her the benefit of a doubt, which made the suicide all the more damning… or appear more damning.

"Thank you doctor." Sheila said, handing him her card. "If you remember anything else." She paused, "But please, keep this under your hat. This may prove to be nothing, a red herring, in which case I would hate to see it dredge up painful memories for all concerned."

"I understand…" He paused, "If… if it turns out that they weren't killed, what will you do?"

"Try and find them." She quietly said.

"Oh. Even if she was guilty…running for twelve years…isn't that enough?"

"I don't make the laws doctor, nor do I get to pick and choose what laws I enforce." Sheila paused, "But I think that after this much time, depending on other…factors, the courts might be inclined to be lenient. Still, we're getting ahead of ourselves here."

The two agents excused themselves, and then left the thoughtful looking doctor.

"So?" Tom said once they were in the elevator.

"He…doesn't' want to think she did it, but he can't avoid how the situation looked." Sheila said.

"Why didn't you ask about the body?"

"Because I didn't want to make him defensive." She paused, "No money problems, no family problems, suddenly out of nowhere, she gets involved…"

_Something stinks._ Sheila thought, cautioning herself to not get too wedded to _any_ conclusion yet

"So do we talk to her grandmother?" Tom looked over at Sheila. "We have time—if they have two children, we've got about two hours before school gets out…and he's probably not home from work yet."

"Yes." Sheila said. "I think I'll leave the cops for last." Her hind brain had a prickling sensation that she'd come to trust. The moment she talked to the local police, the local _government_ would know what was going on…

* * *

Kim entered the room, a small, Spartan, but well equipped medical examination room. On it, a man, his body a mass of scar tissue and tattoos, lay, torso bloody from a wound in his shoulder.

"If the knife had gone a centimeter to the side, we wouldn't be talking right now." The older, redheaded woman said, working on him. "It would have sliced right through an artery, and you would have bled out in minutes. Be careful next time." The only reply she got was a grunt, as she finished stitching up the wound. Without another word, the Yakuza member got up and lumbered out of the tiny room, leaving Kim facing Cindy possible.

"There will be a dinner tonight. He wants you presentable, and at the table." Kim's voice was emotionless.

"Oh, I'm… not really prepared…" Cindy said, stepping back. Fear flickered in her eyes.

"Then _get_ prepared." Kim said. "He is not asking."

"I…" in one swift motion Kim closed the distance to her mother, gripping her hand by the wrist and bending it back until the older woman cried out in pain.

"I said…" Kim said in the same emotionless tone, "He is _not_ asking." Now there was an emotion in her voice. Contempt. "As you have him to thank for everything… including recovering your failures, you could at least try to _attempt_ to pay him back… as useless as it might be." Without waiting for an answer, Kim turned and left the room, leaving her mother to fall to her knees, cradling her rapidly bruising wrist.

* * *

To be continued. 


	4. Chapter 4

_Dinner parties and Lemon Squares_

Disney owns all characters associated with Kim Possible.

* * *

"So we should talk to the grandmother…" Tom said, "Just like that? Hi, your granddaughter and daughter in law may be alive, and oh by the way, ma'am, would you like us to take you to the hospital for that nasty heart attack?"

"Hmph." Shego said, "Did you read the file on the family?"

"Skimmed it."

"Read it again. The grandmother is not the heart attacking type." Shego turned, following the instructions of the on board map computer. _Thank God this came standard. Normally the bean counters would prefer you drive around in circles all day rather than let you rent a model with something extra…_

"There we are." She pointed at a house—a very _nice_ house, Shego had to admit. She ran more towards apartments, easier to take care of, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd actually spent more than a week a time in hers—it was often easier to catnap at the office.

"Am I staying in the car?" Wade asked, hopefully.

"Nope. You're our bonafide technical assistant." Shego said.

"But…I don't know these people…" Wade said, nervously. Sitting in a lobby, immersed in a laptop was one thing, but talking to strangers, strangers that were close to him…

"I'm training you in the art of not freezing, Algebra Lad." Shego said unrepentantly, "Some day you'll thank me when you can unbutton your girl friend's shirt without fainting."

"Guh." Was Wade's answer.

"And you might even be able to explain what you're doing when daddy comes in the door."

"Gah!"

The three trooped up to the front door, where Sheila blinked at what looked like some hastily repaired blast damage to the door.

"Guns?"

"No." The former heroine said. "Plasma of some kind. Like a blaster."

"Okay…." Tom commented, moving to one side of the door. Not that he was _expecting_ some crazed grandmother to send a bolt of ravening destruction through, you understand…

But in his time with Shego, he'd learned to be prepared. Shego stood to the other side of the door, and snagged Wade and pulled him to her side before she knocked on it.

"Coming." A voice said.

"She doesn't sound crazed." Tom said.

Then the door opened to a slight, gray haired woman, in well…the kind of clothes grandmothers the world over wore.

"May I help you?"

"I'm Agent Shiela Go with the FBI." Shego said, "Can we come in? We have… some questions to ask, and some information to give."

"Very well." The lady looked at the three and smiled, "Oh, don't worry—we weren't shooting at anyone through the door. The Twins just had an experimental snow vaporizer…that got a little out of hand."

"Okay…." Tom said again, looking if anything, less reassured by that news.

* * *

Cindy Possible stood in her room. It was richly appointed, with a small bed, that only she had lain in. It was a fantasy of hers that it would remain that way if someone wished otherwise, but at least they respected…or had chosen to leave her that scrap of dignity. Her enforced whoring was done in other rooms. They _didn't_ leave her the only key to the door, of course, or the key to the second lock on the door, the one that only locked from the outside. The clothes in the closet were of the best, brought in to her, or much more occasionally, bought by her when she was allowed to go shopping.

The doctor sighed as she looked at them. All expensive, not a floppy set of slippers or a comfortable sweater in the lot. She'd used to wear sweaters, sometimes, or her white lab coat, but those weren't… allowed. The lab coat stayed in the small lab where she worked on criminals or did tests on drugs, or whatever her chore for the day was. Anything that the Oyabun didn't want coming to the attention of the authorities and was medical in nature were sent to his tame doctor.

At first she'd been scared…but not enough. Not nearly enough. When they'd come and got her and Kim from the house, she'd been preparing to flee on her own. No reason to try and _fight_, not with such clear evidence that it was the authorities who were framing her.

And the men had been scary, but for a moment she'd hoped they were some other government organization…and they hadn't dissuaded her until they were far away from Middleton, until they had all her ID, her bank passwords, everything. Until she was securely in this…place that had been her prison in all but name for the last twelve years. She'd begun to be afraid, for herself, for Kimmie, who was frightened enough…so she'd told the Oyabun that she was leaving, regardless of the danger to herself.

The Oyabun had expressed disappointment…

And then two men had come and taken her away for a day. The five year old Kim had been told… something. Cindy didn't know what, even to this day, but it had been the start of turning her against her mother.

Cindy hadn't dared protest. Those two men had shown her, that day, and in the days after when she'd…mis-behaved, just how much pain could be inflicted without leaving mark or doing permanent injury…physical at least. Pain, humiliation, degradation…they were experts in their field, and they'd plied their trade well on her body. When she'd come here, James had been the only man she'd ever slept with.

No more. Now, a suggestion from the leader or his lieutenants that someone might enjoy a night with the redheaded doctor was an order, one she dared not defy. Kim despised her for that, and she dared not, could not tell Kim why. Especially since she doubted Kim would believe her now.

And even if she had been brave enough, Cindy thought with sick certainty, what would it get her? She might have been framed, in the beginning.. but now, she knew enough criminal secrets to go to prison for life, and Kim…Kim…

Had kil-murdered. Maybe she could break free and run, but leave her daughter to face trial, life in jail, or more likely death when she refused to surrender? After all the _other ways_ she had failed her? No.

Not that Kim would thank her, the mother thought. Kim was obedient to the Oyabun… along with Yori, his soldier, or more honestly, hunting dog. That had started nearly the first day they'd come here, and almost before Cindy had realized it, her daughter had been taken from her with a skill that had astonished her. The poised woman, looking at the world through those emotionless green eyes… could that be the girl she'd taken to Pre-K? Was there anything left of Kimmie? She never, in a million years, could have feared her daughter, her brave daughter who nonetheless was timid at the thought of going to Pre-K.

She feared the woman that daughter had become.

She closed her eyes, sighted, and started dressing for the dinner, paying special attention to her makeup and hair. It wouldn't do to embarrass her superiors, and depending on who was attending, such embarrassment would come at a _very_ high price.

* * *

"So. What is it you are here for? Is James' security clearance under review again?" She said after offering them all lemon squares and looking at Wade with disguised curiosity. The Grandmother act didn't fool shego for one second—this was a very observant, intelligent woman, and she'd bet money that there was a good chance that that innocent looking hand bag might conceal at least one small, unpleasant and fatal surprise in it.

Shego looked around the living room. There were pictures all over the walls, or her, a her son, the two twin boys. Some other people she didn't recognize and of course, Kim and Cindy Possible.

Rather a lot of those, especially over the fire place.

_Shrine_. Her mind said to her.

"No." Shego said, "I'm reviewing some new information about the case involving your daughter in law and granddaughter." The older woman's face became set.

"I'm afraid you have had a wasted trip, Agent Go." She said, quietly, "We have worked very hard, over these lasttwelve years to get on with our lives, and put those days behind us… with little success, I might add. Kim is dead. Her mother is dead." She paused, and sighed, "And I do not wish to recall the day I helped my son bury his wife and child."

"Mmm…." Shego said, looking over at Wade, with his ever present laptop. "Captain Calculus…call up the video file." Wade blinked, and did so, handing Shego the lap top. She swiveled it around to show to Ann Possible.

"This was taken by a…. concerned citizen who was…"

"Watching to make certain nobody assaulted those poor girls?" Nana said.

_Oops, started the feed a bit early._

"Yeah—wait though." Shego waited as the video went to the end, showing their mystery killer.

"She was very fast." Ann said.

"Yes, and looks to be a teen—possibly." Shego didn't smile at the pun. "We found one other thing at the crime scene." She paused, "Oh, yeah, this…individual, has been involved in at least 7 murders that we're aware of." Honestly, she continued, "or there are a group of them, with the same MO."

"And this is important to me?"

"It may be—we found a single hair at the last scene—enough to get a DNA read off of it." She looked at her, and continued, "The DNA was a match with Kim Possible's hospital records, and I was interested to find out that no DNA had been taken from their bodies."

* * *

The dinner was just beginning when Cindy arrived. There were several regional bosses, and someone from Japan, and…

Oh God. Him. The first man that it had been "suggested" she sleep with. The one Kim had come in the room unexpectedly to see. Cindy shuddered. Beyond everything else, he was a brute in the bad sense of the term, someone who enjoyed showing his strength. Cindy had recalled having to set the bones of several prostitutes who had…. Displeased him. At least one other she'd heard, had been beyond her help—or anyone else's help for that matter. As the Oyabun's tame doctor, she knew that she was safe from his more brutal past times…but even so, she'd had to carefully apply make up to her face and wear long sleeved dresses for several days to disguise the bruises he'd inflicted on her, after any of his... sessions. Not only that, but _her_ seat was next to his. She sat down, her expensive silk, gold and red dress, brilliant against the dark carpet of the floor. She didn't wear earrings—most of the other women did, but Cindy didn't…

A little defiance. All that was left in her.

Kujo put his arm around her, a breach of manners, and gave her arm a crushing squeeze that she was certain would leave bruises.

"You and I, we'll have some fun after dinner." The Oyabun didn't contradict him, and she saw Kim looking over at her, her eyes slightly narrowed.

Kim continued eating, giving light dinner conversation, as befit someone who was to never bring disgrace on the house…unlike her mother.

_The first man you rutted with, after you decided to betray daddy again._ Kim thought, letting no sign of her anger touch her face. _You didn't even lock the door so I couldn't see him, or bother to try and stifle the voice that hadshown just how much you **enjoyed** it._ It _would_ be too much to expect that of her mother. Tono was right. Kim shouldn't be angry at her because she was weak and incapable of feeling loyalty…like Tono.

"And how are you doing with your studies, Kim-chan?" Tono asked. Kim swelled with pride. He'd addressed her using such a familiar suffix! Like a parent mght! Kim quickly schooled her face so as not to humiliate herself before him.

"Well, I thank you, Tono-sama." She said. "I am almost complete in my mastery the dialects of Chinese I have been learning." She smiled, "Though I must confess that Mandarin sometimes can be difficult."

There was a laugh from a man further down the table.

"Difficult—Tono-sama, she speaks it like a native, complete with accent!"

"I would expect no more from my little Ghost-cat." Tono said. Kim dipped her head in humble acknowledgement.

"It was no more than I could do to repay you, Tono-sama. The tutors and training were excellent."

"As was the student." Tono paused, "But there is another request I might make of you."

"Yes?" Kim now looked up, naked eagerness shining on her face.

_I will do **anything** for you, Tono-sama. _She thought.

* * *

Tono smiled slightly at Kim. He had taken great care with her, first to insure her mother would remain… properly obedient. But then, he'd realized she could be more—what, he hadn't been certain at first.

But that, of course had required measures to control her. He'd engaged in those measures, carefully, retaining skilled psychologists to map out the plan of attack. Unlike Yori, who had later arrived from school perfectly conditioned to obedience, Kim had a will and fire that could easily force him to dispose of her. So he'd planned to flense that will away from her, remolding her, no matter the pain it caused, into a useful tool.

And at every step of the way, the girl had never associated him with the punishments or cruelties, only her liberation from them. He'd been very careful, very clear in his instructions. Only he, or those he permitted, were to show her any undue kindness. Oh, her mother would never obey, but that had also worked in his favor—making her look powerless, weak, at fault for separating Kim from a father she now barely remembered…a father who benefited _Tono_, as he was safely absent and would never gainsay Tono's will.

When she had failed on her lessons, and been tossed into the cold room, naked, it was Tono who came and got the shivering, crying child, with a blanket and sweet, and a mild sense of disappointment, but sure she would do better. When one of her trainers belted her across the room, telling her how useless she was, how ungrateful for the protection she had received, it was Tono who picked her up and assured the individual that she would do better. And she did—eager for any sense of approval from him, doing ever better. A frown from Tono could crush Kim…and drive her to ever greater efforts to make up for her failings in his sight…

…And when Kim came upon her mother sleeping with another man, even having a (faked Tono was sure, but didn't care), orgasm, it was Tono who took her aside and wiped the tears from her eyes and explained, sadly, that perhaps her mother had not loved her father as much as Kim did…but that they should not hold someone to a standard they could not meet. It would be wrong, he said, to hold her to such a standard, that she, unlike Kim, and Tono, could never understand or even wish to understand. The flare of contempt when he'd first said that, in her nine year old eyes, had proven to him that any influence her mother had on her would be swiftly neutralized. He, of course, didn't bother to mention _he'd_ been the one to order that she slept with the individual who'd been nastiest to Kim over the last month. Kujo. Who was about to serve again in a similar capacity, although one he did not expect. Unfortunately, Kujo had failed to understand his place.

* * *

"If that…" Ann said quietly, "is a joke, it is one in extraordinarily poor taste, Agent Go."

"It is no joke, and believe me, I was very surprised at the information." She paused, and decided to continue on that tack. "I have an _incredibly _skilled assassin, and a DNA strand that indicates she might be a dead girl—and more importantly, I'm assuming that Kim didn't exhibit any homicidal tendencies."

"No." Ann answered, "None. She was a bright, intelligent, loving five year old, who took after her mother." Now there was a bit of emotion, she pulled a tissue from her handbag and wiped her eyes. "Excuse me."

"I'm sorry to bring this up." Shego said, "But I really _don't_ have any choice."

"And you want to exhume the bodies." Ann said. Shego didn't insult her.

"Yes. When they were buried DNA analysis couldn't pick out enough intact material to get a match—now it can."

"James… James will never agree. If he was here right now, you'd probably have already been thrown out."

"I understand." Shego said, "But if those _aren't_ Kim and her mother's body…there are two Jane Does up there, and likely, a family wondering what happened to _their_ wife and kid."

"This will…" Ann shook her head. "I know what you're doing Agent Go, but what about my family?" She paused, "My son very nearly did not survive this… the waiting, the uncertainty, and then those accusations…"

"Which may have been faked." Shego said.

"Evidence?" Ann asked, in tone that Shego knew.

"None yet, but…thoughts. This is a very odd case." Ann sighed.

"I don't recognize the young man in the wheelchair." Tom broke in. Shego shot him a gaze, but subsided. It might be wise to segue a bit. "Is he a relative?"

"In…in a way." Ann said, "Felix Renton—Sarah Renton's son." She looked at Shego directly, "My son's companion. She lives here with her son. She had come to work at the space center after her husband died and son was crippled in an autowreck, at around the same time Cindy and Kim…died." She shrugged, "They had a great deal in common, both being single parents, and four years later she moved into the house." Ann paused, and looked at the three, "I approve. But if Cindy is alive, if Kim is alive, you will once again turn my son's life upside down. If they are not alive, but you lead him to think they are, or even raise the doubt, then you may very well have the same affect. I do _not_ approve of that."

"I understand, but be that as it may… Wouldn't he prefer to know the _truth_ about what happened."

"Yes. Can you give it to him?" Shego looked at her. There was iron in those eyes, but she was old.

_You should be driving your daughter crazy being over protective, not talking about digging up the coffin in which she may, or may not be._ Shego hated this part. Going to families, in some ways making them live the crime over _again_. She was always honest with them.

"As much truth as I know, you'll know." She paused, "I am sorry to do this."

"I know you are, dear." Ann said, "Are you staying at a hotel?"

"Yes."

"Give me the room. I'll be the one to explain this to James. He isn't… overly logical where police officers, of any stripe, are concerned."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Kujo, I am afraid, has dabbled in matters that were none of his concern. He has stolen from us." Kujo looked up at the words, face shifting into shock, and fear.

"Tono-sa-"

"Kim-san?"

"Yes?" Kim said, looking over at the man at the head of the table.

"Kill him." Before the 'him' was finished, Kim was in motion, a blur. A short sword appeared in her hand as if by magic, and she moved nearly too fast for the eyes to track her. Kujo hadn't even finished his protest as the blade was driven into his chest, through it, and into and out of the chair, pinning him like a butterfly. Yori smiled in approval at Kim's style, as for a moment, Kujo attempted to pull himself free, already dying even as Kim shifted the blade slightly, completing the destruction of his heart, where she'd driven it through. Moments later, she was standing by the twitching man.

_I will recover the blade later._ Kim thought, _If_ _I pull it out, there'll be blood all over the table and carpet._ The Oyabun made a small gesture and two bodyguards, movements slow and uncoordinated compared to Kim, came up and pulled the corpse, still pinned to the chair, away. Kim's mother had raised her hand to her mouth, shocked at the sudden violence, looking at her shoulder where Kujo had last touched her.

_Missing him already? Or are you deciding who will replace him?_

"Kim-san."

"Yes, Tono-sama?"

"Your mother appears to be fatigued—perhaps the events have been too much for her. I believe you should return her to her chambers so that she may rest." Kim didn't let any anger touch her face.

_Of course._ _You had to ruin it by mourning over someone who **betrayed** Tono-sama, your protector, didn't you **mother.**_

Kim reached down and gently lifted her mother to her feet. Cindy didn't bother to say anything or try to resist. Kim was far, far stronger than she was, and she could feel the barely restrained anger in her grip…and if Kim wanted to, she could effortlessly drag her mother wherever she wanted.

"Come mother." Kim said, and Cindy could barely endure the emotions in her daughters gaze. "I'll take you to your room and come back to dinner myself." _The dinner you ruined, mother._

At the head of the table, Tono allowed himself a small smile. Yes, it required forethought and planning.

But the results were well worth it.

* * *

To be continued. 


	5. Chapter 5

Surprises

* * *

The hotel was well appointed, with their room having two bedrooms, two beds in each one. Sheila would take one, and Wade and Tom the other.

That is, if she could get to sleep.

"What's keeping her?" Tom said.

"Probably the natural response to "can I give the nice cops permission to dig your wife and daughter's bodies up?""

"Yeah…what if we don't get permission."

"We try and get a court order…but I'd really prefer not to go that route." Sheila paused, "Look at this, Tom."

"Yeah?"

"Mathboy ran a analysis on various unexplained deaths—especially of criminal figures, or those involved in criminal activity."

"And?"

"There's been a spike over the last two years—attributed to various causes."

"And you think?"

"Yeah. You saw the tape—she was no amateur. Before, I'd be willing to attribute the seven deaths to one lucky pro…but I'm wondering how badly we've undercounted her score card."

"Well, we have leads" Tom said. "Now that we know who she might be."

"Too damn _many_ leads." Sheila groused, "none of which seem to be connected to each other. A pair of faked deaths, a killer 17 year old? Do not _even_ suggest that some prophet said: "Hey, that kid in pre-K? Yeah, the one with the stuffed animal. Man, fake her death and before she graduates she'll be one stone cold killa." No. There are other things here that we don't know yet."

"What do you think they could be?"

"Well, for one, I'm beginning to thinkthe mom _didn't_ commit a crime."

"Than why run?" Sheila's eyes suddenly looked feral, a tiny green glow reminding Tom of her powers.

"Well, I don't know, Tom…most solid citizens go to the cops, unless they have a reason not to…" She paused, and turned back to Wade.

"Math Lad, pull up a _complete_ file on that case against Kim's mom—not just about her, but evidence, witnesses, all involved cops and attorneys—everything. Focus on anything odd about the other participants."

"Okay." Two minutes later, Wade looked up, surprised.

"Here it is."

"Already?"

"There isn't much." He said, with some surprise. "Just a few new stories, the investigation, and that's it."

"Let me see that." Sheila paused, and blinked. The original report hadn't had a lot of data, and honestly, she hadn't been interested in it, being more concerned with the present. But now that the past seemed to be _intruding_ on to the present…

"Odd. Very damned odd."

"Yeah?"

"No follow up. None at all. You'd expect that there would be some interest in finding out who she was selling the drugs to." Sheila said.

"Unless she really wasn't selling them?" Wade asked.

"Don't' run ahead. There could be other reasons for this." Tom quietly commented, but without a lot of certainty.

"Well, we'-" The hotel phone rang and Sheila got it.

"Hello? Yes. Yes, we can do that. We have a lab in Middleton. Thank you. Do you…no, I see, I agree. Thank-" Sheila paused, looked at the phone where someone had just hung up, and completed her statement. "You."

"Who?"

"Ann Possible. They've agreed, but we shouldn't be around for the disinterment. Not unless we want to risk James Possible giving one of us a fat lip." She shrugged. "So we stay far away, but close enough to make certain those bodies in the ground are the ones we see in the lab."

"You don't trust them?"

"Right now I don't trust anyone." She turned to Wade and frowned momentarily. "OK, Kid, sack time."

"But I want to check out the systems performance…"

"You can try and subvert the Bureau's network for an Everlot hack later. Bed now. We have an early day tomorrow."

"Yes Sheila." As Wade headed off to the other room, Tom raised his eyebrows.

"You're pretty hard on the kid."

"Harder than I am on you?"

"I went to Quantico." Sheila shrugged.

"And Math Lad is smarter than either of us."

"You don't like it?"

"I worry about it." She said, "He's got way too many people telling him how brilliant he is. Smarts and common sense don't always come in the same package."

"So he made a few mistakes." Now Sheila was glaring at Tom.

"He hacked a server system that handled everything from payroll to drug tests—just fixing and upgrading cost them over one million dollars." She paused, "If some kid from the wrong side of town managed to do that much property damage, we'd lock him up and throw away the key."

"You think we should do that to him?"

"No. But we shouldn't forget that he needs to learn respect for property, and _not_ treat him like the Second Coming." She paused, "Sorry, Tom—my hot button issue." Tom didn't say anything. Sheila was notoriously reticent about her past. "In my home town we were the welfare kids from the white trash family—granted, I was Asian, but you get the point. The rich kids could basically destroy whatever they wanted and well, it was just hijinks. I can't count all the times I was braced by the cops." She paused, "Of course, then that comet hit and all was forgiven."

"Yeah. Um…Sheila?" Tom decided to take a risk to satisfy a question he'd had ever since he'd partnered with her.

"Yes?"

"Why did you break up with your brothers?" He quickly raised a hand, "I mean, if it isn't personal and all."

"It's _always_ personal with family." Sheila said, quietly. "We had this team, that ridiculous power—a rogues gallery of equally ridiculous villains…" She paused, "And we did nothing with it." Standing up, Sheila looked out the window, the town, small to someone who lived in LA. "We almost never did anything with regular criminals, and when we did, most cases lasted just long enough for the defense attorney to file a motion to dismiss. By the time I left, the DA wasn't even _bothering_ to file charges."

"Didn't you try to make it so they would stand up?"

"I thought about it. I read a bunch of books, but Hego and the others, well, they were more interested in the cameras." Sheila looked pensive for a moment, "No, that's not _entirely_ fair. They wanted a happy, hallmark ending, where the bad guy goes to jail. Not where you send a guy to jail, but than you have to go to court, and hope he doesn't get out and hope to god you got the right guy, and meanwhile you can't do _anything_ about what he's already done."

"And you?"

"I'm problem oriented. I was always the one who tried to keep things running before fame and fortune were ours." In another, that would have been arrogance, but Tom had _worked_ with Sheila, and he doubted she'd ever simply worked her required number of hours. Quite often she was working when he left for the night and back at work—if she'd ever left, when he came back in the morning.

"This is where the important stuff happens." Sheila said, indicating them. "Not winning the war for good—but keeping things _running._ We can't solve the worlds problems, or be some fairy godmothers, but we can damn well try and keep our chunk of it running." She paused, "and right now, that means figuring out how a five year old turns into a killer."

* * *

The next morning Sheila, Wade and Tom were all in the rental car, at a point overlooking the cemetery.

"They've disinterred the coffins." Tom said.

"Good." Sheila said. "There was one case…"

"What happened?" Wade asked.

"It was an old wooden coffin, and when we brought it up it…fell apart. Along with who was in it."

"Eugh." Wade said, regretting his large breakfast.

"OK… they're loaded. Let's go meet them at the lab." Sheila said. Of course, they'd meet them after _following_ them, just in case there was a switch. She didn't believe so, but you could never be certain…"

At the lab, the two coffins were placed in the medical examiners lab. The adult Possible Family was there, including Sarah Renton. None of them smiled, or offered their hands, or made any chit chat. Sarah Renton was an attractive woman, whose normally pleasant blue eyes were ice cold looking at Sheila and Tom, as she had James' arm in hers, attitude defensive and angry on behalf of her companion.

"We will know in a short bit." Sheila said.

"So fast?"

"The equipment is very advanced." Wade said, and than subsided before a quelling look from Sheila. "Maybe I should hel-"

"No. You're not a member of the Bureau." Sheila said. "This is all being logged and recorded, in case it comes up in court one day."

"As what?" James Possible said, advancing on her, Sarah at his side. "Another public crucifixion?"

"Actually, the sense I got from the hospital, was that if anything people were reluctant to believe the allegations." Sheila said quietly. "Did you believe that someone had an ulterior motive?" The glare he sent her could have melted steel.

"Given that my _wife_ would never have committed those crimes, or endangered her daughter in any way, I assume _someone_ had such a motive….and the police were only too happy to assist by closing the investigation." Sheila didn't say anything for a moment. Families often ahd a hard time believing…unpleasant truths. But this case was…different.

"Agent Go?" The ME came over the intercom.

"Yes? Do you have a match?"

"Err… I think we'd better speak privately." Sheila shook her head.

"No. It's their family—or it's not."

"It's not." James Possible looked like he might pass out, actually swaying for a moment, and Nana closed her eyes, either in prayer or shock, Sheila couldn't tell. The ME was continuing. "And it's not just DNA… Agent Go, the larger body is _male_."

To be continued.


	6. Chapter 6

_Revelations

* * *

_

"_What?_" Sheila bellowed.

"Impossible!" James said. "I saw them."

"James." Ann said, "You saw two unrecognizable scorched bodies. Did you recognize them? At all?"

"They…" He ducked his head. "Between the fire and the crash…"

"Are you certain, Doctor?" Sheila asked, this time to a real person as the FBI specialist exited the room.

"Yes."

"Could it have been an honest mistake?" Tom asked.

"No. Not to anyone even moderately competent—as in, "spent a day in medical school." The body was heavily damaged—but the pelvis is obviously of a male." He paused, "and, needless to say, the DNA _isn't_ that of Cindy Possible."

"And the smaller body?"

"A girl, yes, but no DNA match there either." Sheila paused.

"Any match on the database?"

"No. But it's not a complete database by any means." He shrugged, "In fact, it's entirely possible, depending on where these two died, there may be _no_ DNA data on file."

"Fine. Doctor, take those bodies apart—I want to know what killed them." Sheila paused, "As of now, this is also a murder investigation in the case of these two, until you can _prove_ they died of natural causes." She looked over at the family. James had sat down, hard, in one of the chairs, his face positively gray. "There's conference room one floor up. I think we need to have a long, serious, talk."

* * *

In the room, Sheila waited while Sharon forced a cup of dark coffee into James' hands, before drinking from her own. Sheila had decided to do a little investigation into Sharon, and found that she was, like James, a brilliant scientist—specializing in cyberrobotics. Also like James, with the exception of this case, her closest involvement with the law had been a few speeding tickets and one break in to her car, in which a CD player was stolen. The two had identical looks on their faces, of someone who had unexpectedly been dumped into a nightmare. Ann Possible had a different look—in her case of someone remembering a particularly distasteful memory. Even _today_, a good chunk of her dossier was classified. The only thing Sheila was certain of was that she'd played with the big boys, in situations ranging from little no-name operations to one operation during the Cuban missile crisis that was completely classified… except for the fact that it had occurred in the USSR.

_What a way to get dragged out of retirement. _

"Alright. Fact." Sheila said, rapping her knuckles on the table. "Those are not your family members' bodies. Fact. DNA and visual evidence indicates that Kim Possible, at least, is alive, and evidently involved in the commission of crimes up to and including murder, and that she _may_ be a very skilled assassin. Those are the _only_ facts we have right now."

"But Cindy could-"

"Be dead, be alive—anything on that is speculation." Sheila said. "Oh, and Fact—there is very good evidence of at least some official malfeasance on the part of local law enforcement. At the very least, criminal negligence… or something worse." She paused. "Ms. Possible… I hope you're not surprised that I've done a little digging into your career." Ann nodded, looking like she was about to go get some more lemon squares…until you looked into her eyes. Sheila noticed that she'd taken out some knitting material, and was working on it.

"Not at all dear. You strike me as very competent."

"Thanks—would you care to share with us your opinion on how much trouble someone went too?"

"A great deal." Ann paused. "Someone not only faked a car accident, but came up with a pair of bodies of roughly the right size, insured they were burned badly enough to prevent identification, _and _the relevant authorities were suborned." All the while her hands continued efficiently knitting a scarf.

_Or a handy Garrote._ Sheila thought.

"Right… and now, the wheels are coming off." She said, "Which is good."

"Why?" James asked, "We still don't know who _did_ this."

"That's true—but we have one end—someone felt the need to frame your wife, and had resources to do it." Sheila shrugged, "You're a scientist—and so a lot of times you come at a problem from the view of solving it—produce a theory, test it, rinse and repeat. In some respects, we do the same thing, only we have an easier time in one way."

"Yes?" Sarah asked.

"We have the advantage, especially in cases like _this_ that we can eliminate a lot of people right off the bat, and look for the ones who benefit—it doesn't matter how clever you are at disguising the evidence when you kill your girlfriend, say, if everyone we interview mentions that you two were fighting every night of the week." She grinned, "And the more complex the plot, the more completely it unravels once things start to go south….say a single tiny hair with some DNA on it."

"Short list." Tom interjected.

"Yeah. And right now, my short list includes the ME."

"I'm… I'm afraid it's likely someone else's short list did as well." Ann said, working on her knitting. "The ME went on vacation two weeks after he identified the bodies and…"

"Unfortunate accident?"

"Drowning. Did I mention he won the Bronze in freestyle?" She shrugged, "At the time, well it was just a terrible accident, but now…"

"Well, this gets bigger and bigger." Sheila paused. _Someone had resources. Lots of resources. _

_To frame a small town doctor? No. That makes no sense, and if they were that interested, why not just kill her? Anyone who could do this could certainly set up a "botched" mugging. To many damned questions. But now we have a…oh yes._

"Was Dr. Possible working on any cases just before this?" Sheila asked.

"No…" James said. "Nothing special…"

"Dr. Michaelson said she was…disturbed for a few weeks previous to the whole blow up." Tom pointed out.

"She was… She said it was sleep—I mean, the twins had just been born, and between them and Kimmie-cub…" Now he was thinking, back to a time over twelve years ago.

"But…" He paused, "She wasn't upset for a while—the twins were almost a month old at that point…"

"So not the twins." Tom said.

"I think we need to visit the hospital." Sheila said, "Again."

"With us?" James asked.

"No." Sheila said. Her expression softened. "Doctor…you're emotionally involved—I understand, but right now the worst thing that could happen is to misread evidence, or _worse_ convince people you're just a family that hasn't moved beyond the event." Then she smiled, an unpleasant expression, "And besides, sometimes it's better to just have a pair of pissed off agents in your office…"

Still working on her knitting, Ann didn't bother to look up.

"You know dear, you would have fit right in, in the OSS. I think Wild Bill Donovan would have liked you."

* * *

"So we're going to try and reconstruct someone's movements twelve years after the fact?" Wade asked.

"Yes."

"How?"

"Old fashioned detective work." Sheila paused, "The kind that predated computers." Wade looked horrified at the very thought. Sheila continued, "First we interview the good doctor." A she smiled, "Then we check out the hospital records."

"What if they're gone?" Wade asked. Sheila laughed.

"Math-Lad, you have no _idea_ how much paperwork goes into a hospital—some might be gone, but not all, I'll bet, and even if they did get them all, knowing what records were missing would be almost as good as having them."

"What about danger to the family." Tom mentioned. "Or someone deciding to shut us up?" Sheila paused, thought, and shook her head.

"I…don't think that's an immediate fear. Before we got involved? Maybe. Now…"

_Dropping us, or the family right now in the middle of an investigation would be a growth industry…Wade backs up his laptop and our records with the mainframe…. _Sheila shook her head again. No, all that would result in would be the appearance of more agents, experienced, pissed off, and very eager to find a culprit.

"No—I couldn't think of anything that would do more to say: HELLO! CONSPIRIACY TO BE UNMASKED!" She looked over to Wade, "But just in case, you _are_ keeping things backed up, right?"

"Right." She paused, again, thinking hard. _But complex doesn't always mean smart, and people can panic…. _

"I'm going to ask for some observation on the Possible's." Sheila said, "Just in case." She finished as she pulled out her cel.

* * *

Tono sat in his office. He smiled at the end of Kujo, and how proud Kim had been… even through her anger at her mother. When Kim had returned, she'd looked emberassed, but she had quickly recovered.

"_Oops. Yori…" Kim said, _

"_Yes, Kim?" Her partner asked._

"_I um…" She motioned to where a fleck of blood from the initial stabbing had landed on Yori's cheek. Yori giggled._

"_Kim…you're trying to make me look bad!" Kim laughed, handing her a napkin, with which she dabbed away the last remains of Kujo's presence at the dinner. The two giggled, like little girls, before schooling themselves back to a decorous presence at the table, under Tono's grandfatherly eyes. _

The phone chimed and Tono took is.

"Yes?" He asked. Anyone on this phone did not need to waste time with pleasantries. "I see…. Yes." He paused. "That is unfortunate." He frowned momentarily and than nodded. "I will open my own lines of inquiry. Thank you."

_So._ _Someone has had doubts about Cindy Possible's death. _The fact that they might not know never entered his mind. Five minutes with a decent, or unbribed, doctor, would demonstrate conclusively that the corpses were not of Kim or Cindy. He wondered if they would discover their true identity… No matter, in fact, better if they wasted time attempting to.

But now that the FBI was involved, at least according to his source, things could become very… troubling.

Troubling for him. Troubling for his organization. The other Yakuza families had on several occasions moved against him, but their inability to be truly long term in their thinking had harmed them.

But of course, chance could endanger even the best plan, like his. If nothing was done…

Than the true prize might very well elude him. Kim was effective, and Kim's mother was useful…

But none of those compared to the fact that Tono was in a position to control the next Attorney General of the United States of America.

TBC.


	7. Chapter 7

Revealing Truths

* * *

"Dr. Michaelson, how nice to see you." Sheila had purred, when she and Tom entered his office.

"I'm sorry, I'm getting ready for a procedure…" He said.

"I know." Sheila said, "It's called being charged with accessory to murder and kidnapping." She paused and smiled, "With special circumstances."

"_What?_" He said, disbelievingly.

"Cut the horseshit." Tom said, "We just got back from _digging the bodies up._" He paused, "A male body and one of a little girl, and _neither_ one, the ones that were supposed to be in the graves." He raised his eyebrows, "And amazingly enough, _our_ ME said that even the most cursory investigation would have demonstrated that…" He dropped a paper on the desk. "Now, the ME who faked this certificate has gone on to his eternal reward—really, really conveniently, but I see _your_ signature there as well, as assisting in the autopsy." He paused, "That's really odd, given that you're not a medical examiner, but a surgeon."

"Yes it is…" Sheila purred, "But I do think he'd still be able to tell man-hips from woman who has had three children hips." She walked to the side, so that he couldn't watch her and Tom at the same time, always something calculated to raise fear in the hearts of the guilty. "So that means, _at the very least_, you helped our dear departed fake that report…and maybe more, hmm? Decided that Mark might be a problem in the future and assisted him off this mortal coil?"

"Wha-you're, _killed?_ You're _insane!" _He said.

"No, doctor, _you're _insane, for thinking you could pull this one off." Sheila said. "Now I want the truth, nothing but the truth, and you'd _better_ hope God helps you if you lie, because I sure as hell won't." The doctor deflated behind his desk.

"I never assisted on the autopsy. I couldn't." He said. "That was _Cindy's_ body."

"And your signature?"

"That was Mark's idea. He said that it was plain she'd committed suicide, so there was no need to actually _have_ an autopsy." He sighed, "He asked me to sign off on it to spare the family any more pain."

"Uh-huh." Tom said. "And what else did Mark say?" Michaelson looked up at him.

"Um…he suggested I not write anything down about this, of course…and also, that I not do any prying into her suicide. Then he left on vacation."

"And got conveniently dead." Sheila said.

"That was an accident!" The doctor said, flustered.

"Oh really." Sheila responded in a bored, _you idiot_ voice. "Right now our associate is looking over his financial records." She paused, "That's why we weren't back sooner—I had to clear _that_ with my superiors. Now, before anything… incriminating comes up, would you like to tell us anything else?"

"_No!_ I don't know anything else. Look, I'll say it under oath, but Mark came to me, told me this would be best for the family, and asked me to sign it, and I _did_." The doctor's face was white.

"So you assisted in a falsified death certificate."

"Yes!" Sheila nodded.

"Doctor, presuming nothing else comes up, I believe you. _Don't_ leave town, and _don't_ talk about this to anyone. When it goes public, presuming you have been _completely_ honest with me, I'll do my best to make certain it doesn't come back to haunt you in criminal court. What happens to your medical career, is, of course, between you and those authorities." With that, Sheila turned and left the deflated man.

* * *

"Is that wise?"

"I got permission to wiretap his house and celphones." Sheila said. "But nah, I think he's just someone who honestly _did_ think he was helping the family…which is probably why he's alive right now."

"And "Mark?""

"Captain-Calculus is hacking those files right now." Sheila raised a finger, "And no comments about leading him into the paths of temptation. I got a warrant."

"How the hell do you get those things so fast?" Mark asked.

"Karma, Good behaviour, and the fact that I bring in results."

"Does the fact that you throw plasma when you get upset have anything to do with it?"

"That too."

Outside, Wade was in his element—ignoring the merely physical world for the far more interesting data-world.

"So, you've been left alone for nearly thirty minutes. Results?" Sheila asked.

"Oh yeah." Wade answered. Sheila's eyebrows went up. She hadn't expected him to get results _that_ fast. He hit a stud and the laptops integral printer fired out a half dozen sheets. Sheila picked them up and looked at him, frowning at them.

"So our ME was paid 250,000 dollars for a single signature." She said. "An electronic transfer from a bank in Switzerland." She snorted, "Well, good luck getting any information out of _them_."

"I know, but you authorized me to find the source of the money so I…" Sheila blinked.

"You _didn't_ hack their system, did you?" Sheila said. Then she held out her hand. "Never mind, don't' tell me. Just… _arrrggghhhh_."

"What?" Wade asked.

"Kid…" Tom said, "Illegally obtained evidence _can't_ be used, usually. Oh there are exceptions, but it can be dicey, and anything you discover from that evidence is also inadmissible, 'Fruit of the poisoned tree.'" Sheila glared at Wade.

"Hang on, I need to make another phone call." She said, and walked over to the other side of the lobby. Tom and Wade waited, hearing snippets of Sheila's conversation.

"…yes, he did."

"NO! I didn't tell him to do that, I told him to find…"

"…well he did, sort of…."

"Look I don't want this thrown…"

"Uh-huh… OK… fine." Sheila looked down at the celphone, closed it, and came marching back.

"Your lucky day, Wade." She said, and Wade blinked, looking at her.

_She is really upset._ He thought.

"The Bureau thinks this is doable—the warrant we got did say the right to examine his financial transactions, and so, _technically_ sort of, you're within the letter of the warrant." Then she leaned down, and frowned at him. "But for future reference, do _not_ hack foreign computers without asking me first." She paused, "So what did you find?"

"This." Wade said, printing out another sheet and handing it to Sheila.

"Oh…_oh._" Sheila said, in quiet wonder. She knew that name from the case…

"What is it?"

"This money came from the checking account of the then-DA…the one who filed the charges against Cindy Possible…"

* * *

Tono sat in his office, thinking.

Killing the officers, even if it wasn't against the backward traditions of the other families, would be useless. That would only confirm the suspicions of their superiors.

Planting evidence?

More likely, although it to would seem…convenient to all too many individuals. Yet, he only had to delay things for a few months and then his tool would be in position to quash any possible inquiry. Just as long as nobody did anything precipitous, all would be well.

* * *

"So what do we do?" Tom asked.

"Arrest the DA?" Wade asked. Sheila and Tom looked at him.

"The Then-DA." Sheila said, "Currently he's the favored candidate for U.S. Attorney General…"

"And you don't accuse someone like that without a pretty iron case." Tom continued, "Because we're not likely to get more than one shot." He shrugged, "So first we check the hospital records."

"And visit the Possible family again." Sheila said. She shrugged, "Get ready for a long day."

* * *

_Hospital records. _Wade groaned, looking at the piles of documents that Sheila and Tom were going through. She hadn't been kidding. They'd checked every one of Cindy's cases, and so far found nothing. Sheila had gone and gotten Dr. Michaelson to sit at the end of table and quiver, between pointed questions.

"So, she was nervous…you thought it was the kids…was there _anything_ else." Sheila said, simultaneously flipping through a book of drug purchases.

"She did go out once or twice…signed out and didn't sign in for a few hours."

"Why? Did she normally do that?"

"No." He said.

"Did she go with anyone?"

"Um…not that I was aware of… I mean a car picked her up, but-"

"Hold on." Sheila said, "You didn't tell me that. A _car_ picked her up?"

"Um, yes…I didn't think anything about it, until now."

"License plate?" he looked at her.

_Right, twelve years._

"Color, make?"

"Um…dark. And it was a new model." Sheila sighed at that.

"Maybe…" Her phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, Hello Ms. Possible… What? He did? I see. I _see_. We'll be there."

Sheila put the phone down.

"What is it?"

"They have something for us." She said quietly.

* * *

Another office, another step up the ladder of power, the man thought. But now…now that ladder was swaying, alarmingly. His former coworkers had told him simply because they thought he'd be interested in a case that had been so important to that small town.

More, far more, important than they realized. More devastating than anyone could realize, especially now.

He had to shut them up, to shut up those three who had in a single week, come closer than anyone had in twelve years.

Except Tono, of course, his good friend, his helper…his master. No, there was no other word for it. Tono held the secrets that would destroy him, and even if he wasn't crass enough to say it, as long as he lived, there would be no freedom. Especially since it seemed like the bitch and her brat were still alive.

But now, he had a plan to kill two birds with one stone.

Or rather…arrange to have them kill each other…

TBC.


	8. Chapter 8

Treasure in a Box

* * *

"Hello Agent Go." Ann Possible said, "I made some more lemon squares." Sheila smiled at that. Nothing could make her look flustered, Sheila bet. At least it wasn't snowing anymore—granted snow in September had been pretty unusual, but still… there were people in bikinis on Santa Monica beach right now.

Not here, unless you wanted to get a dandy case of hypothermia. When this case was over, Sheila was returning to California, taking some vacation days and going to toast in the nice, warm, sun.

"No thank you," Sheila said. "You mentioned that you had some extra information?" She paused, and let a little steel enter her voice. "Some information that you didn't feel needed to be shared with me immediately?"

"We've been in a case of rather… severe shock, dear." Ann said, not sounding shocked at all. They entered the living room where Doctor Possible, Doctor Renton and four other people were. Two younger boys (the twins, Sheila thought), Felix and a blonde haired teen of about Felix's age.

"And these are?" Tom asked.

"Leaving." Dr. Possible said, "But since they're going to be out for a long time, I thought that the twins might need some supervision…"

"Dad!" Both twins said.

"Told you, you shouldn't have sent the Quickie Mart into orbit." The blonde said. Then he looked at Sheila. His eyes widened in a combination of surprise, interest and teenage lust.

"Ron Stoppable at your service!" Sheila groaned. Being pretty (And she was, her modesty came in not saying the truth: drop dead gorgeous), she had people trying to pick her up all the time.

But teenagers? Gah.

"Agent Go of the FBI, at yours. Anything you want to confess?"

"Um…." He looked at something in his pocket…a talking naked pink thing? _Focus on the mission, Sheila. _

"We'll be back tonight!" Felix said, extending a pair of manipulators from his wheelchair and pushing Ron out. "C'mon Cassanova…"

"Hey, I was making a connection!" Ron said.

"Right into jail, you were…" Came the fading voice of one of the twins.

"Sorry about that." Dr. Renton said. ":But well, sometimes the twins need someone to, err… moderate their desires."

"And your son and his friend will do that?" Tom raised his eyebrows. "Good kids."

"Yes, they are, very good. Ronald was Kim's closest friend…while she was here." James said, keeping any emotion out of his voice, but not his eyes.

"Yes, but what's the new information?" Sheila asked. James handed her a small box. A laptop, Sheila suddenly realized, looking a bit old fashioned.

"I made this for my wife." He said quietly. "I had honestly forgotten about it, because, well, she wasn't here, and in any case, I had designed it to give her complete privacy—without the passwords, I couldn't begin to decrypt the information." He shrugged, "But maybe…"

"Right. Captain Computation, front and center." Sheila said. Wade was there, looking at it interestedly.

"Wow, this is advanced—for the time, I mean."

"I built it for our fourth anniversary." James said, "Using some of the space center technology."

"How's the encryption?" James and Wade started talking in Greek. Or maybe Aramaic. Oh wait. She'd heard that language before: Geek.

"And they'll keep doing this?" Sheila asked Ann, noting that Dr. Renton was evidently following the conversation with ease.

"If the discussion's between James and Sarah, or James and the twins are any indication… they could be doing this for hours."

"And he only remembered it now?"

"He only _allowed_ himself to remember it now." Ann looked at Sheila, and spoke in a lower voice. "Agent Go, I wasn't kidding you when I said that he very nearly didn't survive."

"I understand." Sheila said, "But is there _anything_ else that has been forgotten?"

"No. I spent the last several hours going over everything that happened—and if there is anything left of help, it is in _that_ machine."

"OK."

"Got it!" Wade said.

"You have to be kidding!" James Possible said.

"No, it was pretty easy—see, my laptop works on fifth level quantum processor algorithms, using a Geible Matrix program system, and your security, I mean it was really good, for the time, but.." And with that, Wade entered Geekese, which Dr.s Possible and Renton understood.

Sheila, Tom and Ann, not being bilingual in Geek looked blank, until Sheila put her finger to her mouth and whistled.

"We can read it?"

"Yeah." Wade said, looking annoyed.

"Than dump a copy to your computer, and bring the original over here." She paused, "I'm sorry." Sheila said to James. "There may be pretty personal stuff in here—but I have to see it."

"I understand." James said.

"OK…" Sheila looked at the screen. Evidently James Possible had understood that his wife might be among the geek-tech challenged in the world, and the screen was pretty much standard windows… at least like it was back then.

"Ok… well, here's a diary." Sheila said, "And a medical journal." She paused, looking at the family. _Best to get the hardest out of the way first._ "We'll start with the personal diary… three weeks before the…faked death."

Sheila flipped through page after page, skimming them. Comments about how James is helping with the twins, how the twins won't sleep, how Kimmie's trying to help, even if sometimes it makes more work… she quickly went through those, so that James wouldn't get a chance to read them.

_Because I don't think we need to have him replaying might have beens over again._

Then she got to a section… Sheila stopped, looked and looked again.

"_Son of a bitch…"_ She whispered. "Son of a _Bitch!_" She paused, and went to the medical journal, going for the same days, and sat back. The others were looking at Sheila, wondering why she suddenly looked…

_Old. _Ann Possible fit in looking at the agent.

_For this. _Sheila's brain gibbered. _Here it is—not why they've ended up where they have, or why Kim is what she is…but what started it. Such a small, disgusting thing…_

"Agent Go?" Dr. Possible asked.

"Your wife treated an…injury." She said, quietly, "On the than DA of Middleton."

"I remember that…" Ann said. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It was a…bite. A small bite on the inner thigh. The kind a child would make." Sheila paused, "Cindy put it here—the last entry…that she was thinking of going to someone else… about where our good DA got the bite from."

"Where?"

"Asia. Bangkok area." Sheila said, still reading. "I _really_ wish she had come to one of us that very second, but…hell. New mother, _good_ mother, she probably didn't understand."

"Understand _what?_" James said.

"Sex tourism?" Tom said.

"I bet." Sheila said. Then, to James and Sarah (Ann seemed to be quite aware of what she was talking about.). "It's a…tourist trade. Go to place where the parents are poor, the authorities are easy to bribe and…people back home… don't need to find out about your appetites."

"What sor-" Sarah asked. Sheila cut her off.

"The pedophiliac sort of appetites. The sexual appetites that require victims rather than partners." She felt sick now. "The sort of appetites that even the _hint_ of in the public could utterly destroy you. Very bad for some ambitious upcoming DA… very, very bad…"

"Jesus. He's the odds on favorite for the AG…" Tom said. "Sheila, he'll have _all _the security clearances for every investigation, every operation…if he's dirty…" Tom sat back. "Hell, he's already _been_ in a position to screw us over…" The full dimensions of the disaster slowly became apparent on the Agent's face.

"But…but why not just kill them?" Ann said, ignoring the intake of breath from her son and his companion.

"I think he expected that they _would_ be dead—it would be the smart thing from his point of view…" Sheila said, and paused, "But think—he's not been caught except by chance. That means he doesn't throw his weight around, overtly, yet he _couldn't_ let Cindy's case come up in front of a court. No, not with the possibility of some bulldog of a defense attorney."

"So he got help." Sheila nodded at Tom's point.

"Yeah, Help." A sharks smile, "Help that kept at least one of them alive, and now we know why. A hold on even a normal DA is pretty good, if you're smart, but an up and comer like Derek Carstairs?" She whistled, "Pure, 24 caret gold."

"And the assassin bit?"

"Good luck for someone—Kimmie had a talent." She didn't notice James' wince at her appropriation of Kim's name. "Good luck for us—the one loose thread that led to all of this."

"But who is it?" James asked. Sheila sighed.

"That's… not clear yet." Then a sharklike smile, "So we have to start pulling on the end of the case we _do _have."

TBC.


	9. Chapter 9

_The Gathering Storm

* * *

_

"What do you mean?" Sheila shrugged.

"I mean that "honor among thieves" is a little fantasy that helps people sleep at night. It really doesn't exist, especially at this level." She paused, "Someone is holding a leash on our dear DA, and I'm certain he'd be pleased to get it off."

"But he'd have to know that would lead to his being _arrested._" Sarah said.

"Not…for certain." Tom pointed out. "Right now, he may or may not know the entire story…but if Dr. Possible is still a wanted felon, if her daughter is simply someone she dragged along…he may believe, or convince himself, that he can get out of this—who would believe their word or the words of their protector?"

"Who would?" Nana asked. "He could be right."

"Not… all the way." Sheila said. "Even if it never came to a trial, I think his hopes of making AG are now dead, dead, dead." She paused, "At least I hope so."

"And if he feels they're being held over him, it's comfortably certain that there may be evidence that _would_ convince people." Tom paused, "Just because we don't know of any other examples of his… little perversions, doesn't mean someone else doesn't have evidence… twelve years is a very long time."

"So you think he'd help you?"

"Help himself, and try to use us as hitmen, I expect." Sheila said. "But that's fine. She paused, face screwed up in concentration. "But this could get very dangerous… which is why I'm putting you on an airplane back home."

"_home?_" Wade asked, in shock. "But I've…"

"Helped." Sheila paused, "Helped lots, Wade." All the snark was out of her voice. "But there's a third alternative to our little plan—he may decide that if he can tidy up the agents involved—all of them, his problem will go away." She sighed, "It's stupid, but if he has been as clever as we think, then he's _also_ never been in this kind of situation, and I can't ignore the chance that he might decide to do something spectatuarly stupid." Now she looked directly at Wade. "And _that_ was not on the list of things your mom signed you up for. You can help us via long range, but not at close range."

"But I'll be days before I can get back to the set up at home—you need me!" Wade said desperately, and nearly on the verge of tears, Sheila realized. She stomped her incipient weakening of resolve hard.

"He could stay here." James said, unexpectedly. "He could help, and I'd be happy to discuss encryption with him." Sheila paused, thought about it, almost opened her mouth to say no, and then saw Tom, looking at her, giving a quick, almost imperceptible nod.

"Fine—but I'm putting a car out front, and if anything, I mean _anything_ happens, you all do exactly what those agents say—which will be go with them to the federal buildings subbasement." She paused, "It's that, or I send you off in a jet plane. OK?"

"OK." Wade said, then, impulsively, reminding her that the Genius was only 11, he turned, "But I'm not afraid." Sheila looked at him, and remembered how terrified he was of people and spaces, and here he was offering to go with them. Still terrified, she could see.

_But being part of a team does that to you…_

"I know." Sheila said, "But that's why we have older heads along, to know when you _should_ be afraid, Major Mathematics."

"Okay." Wade said, "And I have a way we might be able to find Dr. Possible if you can localize her…"

"How?" Tom asked.

"I can feed in the pictures of her here, using bone and face recognition software, and tap into local security camera feeds—if she walks past on, the computer will recognize her."

"What about Kimmie?" James asked. Wade shook his head.

"No, her face would have changed too much with age." Sheila frowned.

_So it will be useless for finding the one person we **know**_ _is alive. _Still, it was a chance… but on the other hand…

"Can you do a search in DMV records?"

"DMV records?" Wade blinked, "They'd never let her get a license or ID, would they?"

"Of course they would." Tom said, "Trust me, one thing that is guaranteed to get a cop interested is if you don't have ID. With all the computer systems, it'd be crazy not to get a legitimate one—under another name, of course…but the photo would be…"

"Yeah." Wade said.

"And even if the address is faked, or not current." Sheila said, "It gives you a smaller area to check." She paused, "And helps us keep Mr. DA in the dark for now…"

"Wouldn't it be better to let him know? He might slip up?" James asked.

"Because we may not be correct—if Mr. DA has a way to control whoever is holding Kim and your wife." _If she's alive, _"He may decide that dead people tell no tales." James didn't twitch. Now that he was over some of his shock, Sheila saw that there was a first class brain working there.

"So we look for…" Tom looked at Wade. "How long will it take you?"

"All night." Wade said, "There are a _lot_ of pictures and it takes a lot of processing power."

"Maybe not."

"Oh?" Wade and Tom looked at James.

"I have clearance to order jobs on the supercomputers at the Space Center." He shrugged, "There… probably a lot more powerful than anything the FBI has available."

"Can you do it from here?" James nodded. Sheila looked at him and Wade.

"Than what are you waiting for?" She asked, "Go."

* * *

"What's going on?" Cindy asked. She'd been going to see her daughter…or at least to try and see her daughter. Sometimes…sometimes Kim was almost like the old Kim, if you caught her in the right mood, or at the right time. Sometimes you could barely see the hooks Tono had placed in her soul. But now there were some of Tono's thugs standing in front of her.

"Nothing. Go back to your room."

"What about my daug-" Cindy found herself spun around, and pushed down the corridor into her room, tossed into it so hard she nearly fell. Turning, she reached the door just as it was locked.

Just as it was locked from the outside.

* * *

Kim was trembling. Tono had called her in, along with Yori and some others. He didn't look pleased.

"Kim-san…" Tono said lightly. "Tell us of how you removed Mitchell, as an obstacle to the harmony of our family?" Kim blinked, and told him again.

_Why is he?_

"And you left no evidence?"

"None, Tono-sama."

"Than why is the FBI currently in possession of your own DNA?" Tono quietly said, "Recovered from the site?" Kim went cold.

_Impossible… It can't be…_ She paused, and shook her head, looking at the floor.

"Tono-sama… I do not know." She said quietly. "I cannot think of anything that I left behind…"

"Perhaps you were a little careless…perhaps you have become…used to the kindness shown you?"

"_No!"_ Kim burst out. "Never, Tono-Sama…I'm not my mother!" Tono sighed, looking at Kim and Kim felt her eyes fill with tears. "Please…I'll…I'll make it right, somehow."

"Possibly…" Tono said, "You wish to show your loyalty?" Kim looked up at him, eyes shimmering.

"_Anything."_ She breathed. Tono nodded, and looked to his side. Another one of his men was there, holding a bamboo shinai He quickly put out a small pan of reddish fluid and carefully, his hands gloved, ran a cloth up and down the bamboo, impregnating it with the fluid. Kim felt an involuntary moan of fear come into the back of her throat. She closed her eyes.

She had dissa-_failed_ Tono. She deserved this. She deserved more. Even Yori looked…disappointed at her. She'd failed her oldest friend. She'd been weak… like _mother._

Kim undid her top and pulled it off, then her bra and walked to the table, bending over it, gripping it with her hands, already pale with fear.

"I…I'm ready, Tono-sama…" Tono nodded, and his assistant, without a moment's pause or word, brought the shinai down on Kim's back with a cracking sound. Kim gasped, but more in fear than pain. There was more to come.

* * *

Tono watched, outwardly calm. How to punish Kim had been a problem—too much and she would be scarred, useless. To little and well…her training had inured her to a great deal of pain.

Fortunately, there were…ways around that. The shinai had been impregnated with a drug that had the effect of vastly enhancing feeling. In a few minutes, Kim's skin would be irritated by the mere caress of the _air_ to say nothing of the strokes of the shinai. It would feel as if her back was being laid open, and salt rubbed in the wounds, all without a single damaging scar.

One guarded one's merchandise from unneeded harm, after all, and it would not do to break such a useful tool prematurely.

Tono let his thoughts move towards the question of what to do. The FBI was being coy about this—and evidently had one of their better agents on it. A Sheila Go. He had viewed what was known about her, her time with the team of poorly named "superheroes" and her actions since.

A rogue. Someone unwilling, or unable to play the game of politics and thus always a worker, never a leader.

But such were dangerous. The hooks that most often allowed him to gain control, such satisfactory control, were often bound up in ambition, greed… this one appeared to be where she desired to be.

Could Sheila be working with his tool? Carstairs had shown no such ability before… yet he had to know, did know the threat Tono held over him.

Yet this seemed to be calculated, if anything to _raise_ suspicion. No. Whatever was happening now, the initial entry of the FBI was just cursed bad luck. If anything, it had been his fault—he should have either kept Kim isolated, or killed her, not used her. But she'd been so _useful…

* * *

_

The strokes were continuing as Tono thought. Kim's anguished whimpers gave way to short, desperately stifled screams. Yori looked uncomfortable as Kim's body shuddered and arched under the blows. Her skin was approaching full sensitivity, Tono know. Should he?

No. She had failed, and would know the full price of her failure. Kim's cries began to get louder as the pain overrode her desperate attempts to control them, shame adding to her anguish.

* * *

In her room, Cindy Possible stood stone still, like an ivory statue. The ventilation shaft brought the knowledge of what was happening to her daughter to her, in the form of her echoing screams. The only sign of life was the tears slowly crawling down her face, and the blood dripping from her hands where her clenched fists had driven her fingernails deep into the skin of her palms.

* * *

Now Kim wasn't screaming any more. She was whimpering like a broken backed kitten. Her fingers were still clutching the edges of the table, now because she no longer had any real control over them. Her legs had gone out, leaving her sprawled, body twitching and shaking from reaction as the length of bamboo came down again and again, filling the room with the sound of it striking her back, a counterpoint to Kim's mewling. Even some of Tono's bodyguards looked uneasy, even ill. Tono remembered their faces. Such weakness had no place by his side.

"Enough." He said, and the beating stopped, as Kim sprawled on the floor. "Kim-san." He asked. Idlely, he wondered if Kim would be able to respond.

By what efforts, only she knew, she was.

"H…Hai…" She said, her voice rough from the screaming.

"I forgive you your failing." Kim couldn't walk, but she could crawl and she did, falling full length, once or twice, before making it to Tono, where he put his hand out and gently stroked her hair, like an owner might a dog. It covered her face in a scarlet tide, hiding her eyes from him. He pushed her back to a kneeling position and saw her face, pale and tear streaked, lips trembling as was the rest of her body. Maybe he had overdone it. She had very little control over her muscles right now.

"Tha…thank you, Tono-sama." Kim said, adoration in her pained voice. Tono smiled at that. Let her mother think about trying to talk to her. Kim was his, in life, and in all likelihood, in death, whenever that might occur. Send her away, beat her, and she would come back longing for the comfort of her collar and the prison he kept her in between missions.

"Yori…" He said.

"Hai?"

"Take her, clean her up and let her rest. I will speak to her tomorrow." When she would still be in pain at any movement, but best to speak to her while the penalties for failure, even unknowing, were still clear in her mind.

* * *

"I found it." Wade said, as the night moved towards the new day in Middleton. Ron, the Twins and Felix were staying at Ron's house. Sheila wasn't going to have more untrained individuals adding their… "help." Not if she could help it.

"What?"

"A 99.99 percent match." He said, pointing to the screen. "Cindy Patterson, registered out of Los Angeles" He paused, "paperwork is here…she's a native of Seattle Washington… same blood type…" and he said, "The picture's…"

"That's her." James said. His voice was soft, disbelieving. "That's…that's…"

"And the kid?" Wade paused, and looked at her.

"Sheila, I told you I can't…" Sheila shook her head.

"I know—Pull up every redhead from that same DMV, age 18."

"But Kim would be 17…"

"Trust me, they'd want to keep her 18 if possible—lots fewer entanglements." The screen started to fill with images of redheads. Sheila sighed, "Limit it for… 5'2-5'8 and no more than 130 pounds." She paused, "If we don't get lucky, we can open it up a bit more…"

"There she is." James said. Wade paused the flashing screen and looked, more than a little suspicious.

_I am as well… a husband finding his wife isn't dead, and that his daughter isn't…_ She looked at the image of a girl, long red hair, looking at the camera, typical lousy picture… Sheila looked closer. There was something about her eyes…something cold and reptilian, even in the poor photograph.

"It _is_ her…it's Kimmiecub…Nana…." Ann looked at the photo.

"It might be, James…"

"Address?" Wade paused,

"Different from Cindy Pa… I mean Possible."

"How _much_ different…."

"Four blocks."

"It's her." Sheila said, all uncertainty vanishing. "They're staying in the same place or close together, but the ID is close enough so if someone stops them they don't raise red flags…oh, sneaky, _sneaky_ bastards."

"Are you certain?" Tom asked, "It could be a coincidence."

"Could be, isn't. My hunch is that we've got our people…and my hunches are never wrong." She paused, "Well, except for that, and fortunately we hadn't filed for the marriage license."

"General Geometry." Sheila continued, "I want a complete readout on any organized crime activity in that area. _Don't_ talk to anyone else yet, I want to let them know what I know when I drop in at the Federal building." She paused, "And use your computer fu—I want a flight for me at Middleton when I get there."

"What if there isn't a scheduled flight…"

"Then rent me a jet." Sheila said, over her shoulder as she turned…

And came face to face with Ann, James and Sarah.

"What are your intentions?" James asked.

"She's my granddaughter, and daughter in law." Sheila paused, and sighed.

"I don't know." She looked at them. "I will do my best, my _absolute_ best to get them out." She held James' gaze. "But I won't lie to you. This could go bad. I give you my word I'll do my best. I _won't_ give you my word nothing will go wrong…because I can't control that."

"And afterwards?" Ann paused, "Kimberly is evidently an assassin. What will you do with her?"

"I don't even know if she's competent to stand trial." Sheila said. "But no, I 'm not going to tell you I'll help her get off." She looked down at her feet. "You remember a sweet five year old. I don't know how much of that is left. You don't know how much is left. Until we know that…"

"I understand." Ann said. "Thank you for being honest." Then she paused, "And the others?" Abruptly, Sheila's smile was like something you would find on a deep sea shark.

"The others? I guarantee you they are _dogmeat._" The she turned, "Get that flight, Wade."  
"It's time to go hunting."

* * *

_We will have no truce or parley with you, or the grisly gang who work your wicked will. You do your worst - and we will do our best. Perhaps it may be our turn soon; perhaps it may be our turn now._

Winston Churchill.

TBC.


	10. Chapter 10

_Last minute meetings.

* * *

_

Sheila wasn't tired when they got into LA—Wade had somehow, and she wasn't about to ask how, booked a pair of Navy F-14's on maneuvers, and she and Tom had taken the two RIO backseat positions for a very wild flight into LA. They'd hit Mach 1 minutes after leaving the tarmac and less than two hours later were leaving LAX.

"How'd he swing that?" Tom asked.

"I don't want to know…" Sheila replied. She was an officer of the law, after all. Then, she got her celphone.

"Captain Calculation—how is it going?"

"Fine—I have continual vid feeds of every camera in the vicinity of both the addresses, with additional coverage" Wade paused, "And most of the hits for Dr. Possible are on Friday."

"Shopping day. Good."

"What now?"

"It's Friday—we wait for a bit and see if he gets anything." Tom looked at the slowly lightening sky.

"You think she'll be out?"

"We've had a lot of luck—maybe we'll get another bit."

"What do we do with her when we get her?" Tom paused, "At the very least, she's complicit in a non-custodial parental kidnapping."

"Go back to law 101—they never were officially divorced and since until now, we thought they were dead, there isn't even a missing persons report."

"You think she'd be coming out at this time?"

"Quite possibly… I don't understand all the dynamics working, but if she hasn't gone running to the cops in 12 years, I doubt they're worried she'll do it now."

"So what do we do, arrest her?"

"No. Talk to her."

* * *

Cindy stood before Tono. Kim was nowhere to be seen.

"It is best if you shop today." Tono said. Cindy didn't nod. Of course it was best. That way, when Kim woke up, Tono could explain her mother liked shopping more than she did seeing if her daughter was no longer in pain. Of course, Cindy could refuse.

The last time she'd refused… by the time Tono's men were finished with her, she hadn't been able to show her face even with makeup, for the next several days. And Tono had worked it around to how she'd been trying to hurt _Kim._ Cindy nodded.

"Very well." She said softly, and turned and left. Why fight when you knew you had lost?

* * *

"Sheila—we've got something!" Wade said. Sheila muttered and put down her hamburger. They'd been waiting all day, so _of course_ it would come when they'd decided to get something to eat at a Cholesterol refinery.

"What is it?" She said, in annoyance.

"Dr. Possible….er, the lady Dr. Possible." Sheila's annoyance vanished.

"Where did she come from?"

"Not entirely certain—even LA doesn't have a complete network of cameras…if it was London…"

"Yes I know, the entire downtown area is blanketed with Cameras." Sheila paused, "When did you first pick her up." She pulled out her PDA, as Wade put a map on it.

"Ok…good."

"Good how?" Tom asked. "Wade, she's escorted, right?"

"Yeah—at least four big goons… I can't get an ID on them in the FBI or local databases though."

"Bodyguards or keepers?"

"Impossible to say."

"With that many, maybe we _should_ arrest them." Tom said. .

"No…" Sheila said. "I want to talk to the good doctor."

"With her goon squad? Good luck."

"Luck has nothing to do with it—I need to get some things. Hauptman Hacker, are you up for some sabotage…in a good cause?"

"Sure," Wade said.

"Good. I need you to be ready to hack into a building, at _very_ short notice."

"A building?"

"They're _not_ heading to the ware house district—I bet they're heading for a mall…which means…"

"They may use elevators."

"Yep. But we won't know when, and where, so you have to be ready no matter what."

"What about you?"

"Trust me." Sheila said, smiling, "I have a plan."

* * *

Cindy was walking, not bothering to look at what was being sold. She would be told what to buy, and since she had no money, no cards, that was it. Of course, if she was bad, Tono might arrange to have some horrifically expensive item shipped in, and tsk over the expense, but admit that it was his fault, because _he_ had permitted her to buy it.

She remembered the last time, her daughter glaring at her, cheeks burning in anger and shame… Cindy's simply burned with shame. It had been a long time since she had been defiant enough to show anger.

She wasn't paying attention when the young woman ran into her, as she was just about to enter the elevator, her minders right behind her. The woman was carrying a dozen boxes, chewing bubblegum with a single minded vapidity, her skin slightly tinted. A halter vest and miniskirt added to the look as her minders were looking at her, smiling at the vision. Cindy blinked, as she pushed Cindy into the elevator.

"Oh, like I'm sorry!" She squealed, and then turned around and looked at the hulking minders. "Um, no room! Have some manners and wait for the next one!" Then the door was closed in their confused faces. Cindy looked at her, mind suddenly poleaxed She was…alone. Alone….

And then the stranger pulled out her celphone.

"Wade— send us up to between the fourth and fifth floors and kill it." And even before she put the clephone back there was a shudder as the elevator started to move, followed a few seconds later by a shudder as it shut down.

"Wha?" Cindy asked, in surprised. What was going on? Then the woman turned to her, and with no sign of her earlier vapidity, smiled.

"Hi, I'm Sheila Go…with the FBI. We need to talk."

* * *

Sheila looked at the woman. Red hair, long, if it hadn't been done up in a bun, blue, frightened eyes, and trying to push herself back against the door of the elevator, one hand hitting the OPEN button.

"That won't work," Sheila said, quietly. "The powers out—and we won't be disturbed."

"No…you can't…they'll…"

"Know? Of course they'll know—the entire building's blacked out. They'll know that right now you're having your ear bent by an airheaded wanna be hooker." She paused, "Now, Doctor Cindy Possible, I'd like to know how a dead woman goes from Middleton to Los Angeles, and how her child becomes a suspect in enough murders to get her very own special room on Federal death row." The woman's face turned pale, as she put her hand in her mouth, biting down on it. Sheila didn't say a thing. Cindy just shook her head, frantically, and when Sheila moved closer to her, flinched and huddled, sliding down to hit the floor.

_Well. _Sheila thought, _Interesting reaction…like some wife who's been smacked around enough that her automatic reaction is to get ready for another smack. _She remembered the picture of her at her medical schools graduation and at her wedding… a beautiful, elegant woman…and now here she was, trying to shove her way through the side of the elevator. She was…

_Beaten._ Sheila suddenly realized why Cindy Possible was walking around. Sheila had seen this before—granted, FBI didn't go out on many domestic disturbance calls, but it was _amazing_ how many "tough guys" like to show how touch they were by beating up their wives or girlfriends… Women had gone to jail refusing to testify, because they couldn't fight their tormentors anymore…they on some level though they deserved it.

_But are you beaten that badly, or are there still some embers we can fan to life?_

"So…" Sheila said quietly. "Are you a prisoner or a conspirator." The redhead shook her head slightly. Sheila continued. "I need to know… and for the last question, I think you need to look at me." Cindy looked up, hopeless eyes looking at Sheila.

"Are you interested in helping me find out if I can rescue your daughter?"

* * *

TBC. 


	11. Chapter 11

_To him that is pitiless the deeds of pity are ever strange and beyond reckoning._

J.R.R. Tolkien.

* * *

The answer to that was surprising. Cindy hunched back even further and whimpered.

"You can't… I've tried."

"Tell me how you tried."

"No…no…he he said not to. He might punish…punish Kim if I disobey him."

_Hostage 101, find someone the individual cares about. Easy and effective…if you don't have a soul. _Sheila pitched her voice lower.

"Tell me about him, Cindy…" A mute shake of the head, tremors running throughout her body.

_You poor damned woman._ _What was your life like before this? I bet the worst fight you'd ever been in was in school…and than you encounter…_ Sheila shook her head slightly. It wasn't surprising she was like this. It _was_ surprising she was even this well off after over a decade.

But that didn't mean Sheila could lighten up. Too much was at stake.

"You know…sooner or later she's going to get caught." Sheila said, in a casual voice. "Probably killed. She's good, and no team sent to get her is going to be casual about it. Dangerous as she is, if she does anything other than get down on the ground, I bet a sniper will put a bullet in her head from a mile away." Cindy whimpered and huddled.

"Of course, she might surrender—or be taken down and not killed." Sheila shrugged. "So what happens then? She goes in front of a jury of twelve good and true men and women…how many people has she killed? In cold blood?" Sheila shrugged, "Well, it's better than it was in the old days—I mean, lethal injection is a _lot_ less painful than the electric chair or firing squad. I hear you just… fall asleep." Now Cindy was moaning softly.

"Do you think _he_ will turn himself in to save Kimmy?" Sheila asked. "He'll dump her and find another tool… It's not a question of if, but when." Sheila paused, and thought then continued.

"She'll be hurt no matter what, Cindy, but work with me and maybe, we can make certain that she isn't executed, killed, or put in jail for the rest of her life."

"I…" She shivered. "It's my fault."

"_No, it isn't._" Sheila said, her voice stern. "Let me guess—he had you beaten, right? Screwed with your mind?"

Cindy didn't looked up, but Shego saw her shoulders tense as she started speaking. "And Kim's…. he would have her beaten when she did…poorly, but after the first few months, I wasn't allowed to be with her…make things better for her. If I tried, they beat me…and they hurt her worse." The words came difficultly, tears trailing down Cindy's cheeks, falling on the floor. "They told her…told her that I didn't care…." She paused, "She…she believes that I left her father, that I'm the reason she's never seen James again."

"So she likes her father?"

"She…she loves him."

_A way in?_

"What's Kim like?"

"She's….oh god, she's Tono's slave. She'll do whatever he asks her to, she lives for him."

"Tono…" Sheila paused, "Wade, run a search—cross reference with the area."

"He'll…he'll punish me." Cindy said. "He'll do it. I'm not supposed…supposed… to talk to strangers. I'm not allowed."

_How long._ Sheila wondered. Twelve years like this? She looked down at the wreckage of a woman in front of her and shook her head, before darting down and pulling Cindy Possible back up.

"No. You _are_ allowed." She said. "_Look at me._" Cindy looked up at Sheila and Sheila gave her the kind of smile that was the tuna's last sight before the great white took it.

"This Tono's scared you. Tortured you, screwed with your mind and with your daughter's. You're terrified of him, right?" A fragile nod.

"Well, Doctor Possible, I'm FBI and I eat people like him for _breakfast._" Her voice dropped, certainty in every word, "And if he kills me, big deal—there'll be another one after me, and another one after that, because _we do not give up_." She softly laughed, "His organization is going down, in flames." She paused, "But we have to worry about getting you and your daughter out, and out in a way that doesn't involve life in a Federal prison."

"But she…she…. Tono said…" Sheila reached out and covered one of Cindy's hand's, as the older woman gripped her head in her hands and moaned like a dying animal.

"I know what he said. I won't lie to you—there will be a lot of people saying that your daughter needs to go up. I may be one of them. It depends." Her voice went softer, "How much is left of your daughter, Cindy? How much of Kim is there, and how much of Tono's creature?" Cindy didn't say anything.

"Sometimes… sometimes she's…like Kimmie." Sheila waited, "But whenever she did…Tono would do something else." Cindy said, than fell silent. Sheila waited for a moment.

"OK—we don't have a lot of time, so I need you to tell me as much as you can—start from the beginning." Sheila waited while Cindy started speaking.

_So…_ _Tono sends Kim out as an assassin…but other than that keeps her close, keeps her away from anyone who might say…unfortunate things. _Sheila nodded. Kim was still a teen, after all… that opened some possibilities.

"OK…" She said, when the story was finished, after getting a few choice bits of information about exits and entrances, "Do you want to come with me?" It wasn't a _good _idea, given that it would send up a flare to Tono….but Cindy Possible was a victim, not a conspirator, Sheila was now certain and leaving her in Tono's power could easily put her life at risk. Truthfully, Sheila shouldn't even be giving her the option…

"No." Cindy said, softly. "I… I have to…stay. With my daughter." Sheila sighed.

"Fine. We'll be moving very soon…and I promise you I'll do my best to get Kim out." She paused. "Whatever happens, the life you've lived for the past twelve years is going to change." Cindy nodded, a tiny spark of…something other than despair in her eyes.

"OK Wade, give us some power." Sheila said. The elevator started moving and then the doors opened to reveal Cindy's minders. Sheila walked out, face set in a vapid expression, tone entirely different.

"Like, you know you'd look really good if you had your hair done in a two tone? Don't forget the number for the salon I gave you!" She waved and gave an air headed giggle, "Buh-bye!"

* * *

Cindy didn't get a chance to buy anything else. Her minders nearly dragged her to the car and headed right for Tono's mansion. She vaguely wondered if, or how she'd be punished.

It didn't matter. Cindy paused, in shock.

It didn't _matter_.

All that mattered was one way or the other, this nightmare was coming to an end. But for it to truly come to an end, she had to make certain Kimberly got out of it, alive. Got back to James.

No matter what. Her life was forfeit for her many failures, but Kimmie's wasn't. Not unless Tono managed to work his sickening magic on her once again.

Which meant no matter how frightened she was….how fearful of what Kim might do.

She had to talk to her. Tell her the truth.

And pray it would be enough.

TBC.


End file.
